It happened one night
by Coyson91
Summary: When Hermione finds Harry pointing his wand at the Draco in the bathroom, she convinced Harry to leave to avoid what she's sure will be bloodshed. But what happens when she and Draco have their first real conversation. HBP ONE SHOT DRAMIONE! "You don't know me, Granger." He snarled. "Maybe not. But I could. If you let me."


**This is my first one-shot so...we'll see how that goes. Hope you enjoy. If you would be so kind as to review. I always love reading them. Thanks in advance. **

**And obviously I don't own anything, it all belongs to the wonderful world created by J. **

* * *

Hermione wandered the corridors of the beautiful castle. Ron was free of that awful girl finally, but it was too soon to say anything about how she felt for him. She wasn't even sure what it was. Did she really have feelings for him? Could she really see herself with a man like Ron? If she took this path would she end up like Molly Weasley?

Obviously, there's nothing wrong with Molly or how she lives her life. Hermione knew her to be an incredible woman with incredible strength, and she had no idea where she would be without her. She was like a second mother. But her life – running around after 7 children, doing all the housework, cooking and cleaning, her whole life revolving around keeping the family running – that wasn't the life she wanted for herself. She wanted to make her mark on the world. Though Merlin knew whether there would be anything left to leave a mark on if this war really came to pass.

The castle halls were unnervingly quiet until she rounded a corner and heard shoes stomping close by. Harry swung around the corner at the other end of the corridor his face like thunder, heading for the boys bathrooms and swinging into them. _Oh dear Merlin, what does he think he's doing. _She ran as fast as she could and spun into the bathroom to find Harry pointing his wand at Draco Malfoy's back. But that isn't the sight that made her breath hitch, that set the hairs standing on end and made her stiffen. It was the look on Malfoy's tear-stained face staring back at her in the mirror.

That look told her a million things and just one. He wanted help.

"Harry, put your wand down, don't be ridiculous." Hermione scoffed at him, trying to ease some of the tension sparking in the air. Malfoy turned to face them both. She'd never felt from Harry what she was feeling now. Pure hatred. And she knew if she didn't do something to stop him, he would be dangerous, and do something he would regret.

"You don't understand, Hermione. He did it!" Harry pushed his wand forward and Draco lowered his head again. She saw the shame cross his features and a small slump of his shoulders until he realised who he stood before and slipped his smug, snarling mask back into place. "He cursed Katie with that necklace."

"Harry," She pushed out in a whispered hiss, moving to stand between him and Malfoy. She placed her hand gently on top of his wand and pushed it down, "please leave." She tried her best to convey with her eyes that it was what was best. She tried to tell him with just a look that this was not a good idea, and as much he was seeking vengeance it would do him more harm than he could ever do to Malfoy.

"But, Hermione-"

"I know," she interrupted, still keeping her voice low, "but please. You'll regret what you're planning. And it won't make what happened any better. You can't change what he did, and fighting him is not going to change what he may do in the future. So I'm asking you, please, as your friend and somebody who cares about you, don't do this. Turn around. Walk away." He stared at Malfoy once more, who's eyes shone with intrigue. She could feel his shallow breaths, like he was afraid to move too deeply in case he shatter Harry's doubt on whether he should stay. But Hermione forced his head to face her and mouthed a silent plea. He sighed and Hermione knew she had won this battle. She smiled gently at him and watched him turn and leave.

"Well done, Granger. Nice to know you have at least one of those pets on a leash." Hermione rolled her eyes before turning to face him, but before she could utter a word, he slumped, sliding down the wall until he hit the tiles.

She walked slowly towards him, afraid that any sudden movements could startle him. She lowered herself gently to sit beside him, but not too close.

"Are you ok?" She asked quietly, not daring to look at him.

"Are you fuckng mental." He laughed. She stared him, waiting for him to stop, "You've just been told that I was the one responsible for cursing your friend. She was in pain, agony, because of me." His lip quivered despite the amused mask he wore, "And you sit there asking me if _i'm _ok? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'll take that as no." She said simply, trying to catch his eye. A strangled sob escaped his throat and the tears began to stream as she was certain they had been doing before Harry interrupted.

"Listen, Malfoy. I know I'm probably the last person you want to speak to. You probably don't want to speak to anybody, let alone a pathetic _mudblood_. But you can. If you choose to. I won't judge." He said nothing and just continued to cry. So she sat with him, saying nothing. Just waiting.

* * *

Draco screamed at himself in his head to stop crying. Hermione Granger was sitting right next to him and he was bawling like a first year. But he couldn't. It was like someone had burst a pipe. There was just no controlling it.

But why was she just sitting there. Just waiting. Quietly, calmly. Not lecturing him. Not yelling at him. Not being her usual self-righteous, goody-two-shoes self at all. Though give it time. He wasn't a big believer in miracles so he was sure her speil would come out soon enough.

But still, the tears flowed.

He just felt so trapped. So alone on his path. Sure his parents knew what he was doing, and Snape was supposedly watching over him, willing to step in if he couldn't do it. But he had to do it. His life, his parents lives, his whole reputation depended on killing that ridiculous, doddery old fool Albus Dumbledore.

But if this was how hard it was to deal with _almost _killing someone, what kind of life would he have if he had to deal with actual murder. He couldn't think about that though. He had to think about the task at hand. He sniffed with resolve forcing the tears to slow and lifted his chin up.

"You about done?" Hermione asked. For a second he'd forgotten she was there and his head spun to look at her.

"Fuck off, mudblood. What are you doing here, anyway? Afraid I was going to kick Potter's pathetic arse in a duel so you came to save him?" He snarled.

"Unlikely. From the look on Harry's face when I got here, I'm pretty sure he was going to kill you."

"Like he could." Draco laughed.

"This isn't a joke, Malfoy. You fucked up." Wow. Straight to the point. Where was the real Granger and who was this sitting beside him, "But that's okay. It's not too late to apologise and be better."

"Ah, there she is."

"Excuse me?"

"For a second there I was wondering what had brought about such a change in you Granger. But no, still the hope preaching, mudblood we all know and can't stand." She pursed her lips and nodded, like she looked amused. What in the hell did she have to be amused about Draco.

"And there's the smarmy, greasy weasel we all love to hate. But that isn't really you. Is it?"

He stared at her blankly, what on earth was she blathering on about now, but his silence seemed to simply egg her on, "I've seen you Draco. This year you've been an empty shell. You look ill. Physically ill. This. This is you. You're scared. Underneath it all, you're just as scared as the rest of us."  
"You don't know me, Granger." He snarled.

"Maybe not. But I could. If you let me." He laughed again before sniffing, a horrid reminder that he'd just cried in front of the Gryffindor Golden Girl. Something he'd never live down if his friends ever found out.

"Fine." She said simply after he didn't answer, pushing herself off the wall and standing up, "If you don't want to let me in that's fine. I just want to help. But if not me, you should find someone, Draco."

The use of his first startled her. He didn't think he'd ever heard her say it. Not without a snarl and an insult heard after it. Not without his family name attached to it. He watched her as she made her way to the door.

"You wouldn't want me to." He called, he didn't know why, he didn't even realise he was going to say anything. The plan had been to let her leave but the words were out of his mouth before he'd even considered them, "You wouldn't want to know me, Granger. I'm not worth it."

* * *

Hermione had no idea what to say. Maybe he was right. Maybe this whole thing was stupid and she should have left when Harry did. She should have left Malfoy to mope. She should probably do that now. But somehow, for some reason, she was drawn to him. She wanted so much to know what he meant, and what he was feeling. Was he as dark as he tried to make himself seem or was she right. Was he just a scared sixteen year old underneath all that arrogant bravado. So instead of leaving she cast a colloportus, locking the door so they would be left alone. Hermione noticed Myrtle peeping from over the top of a cubicle but when she caught her eye Myrtle winked and lowered down, and Hermione knew she'd left them to it.

She stepped over to Draco as cautiously as she had done the first time, but instead of sitting next to him she sat down in front of him. Face to face.

"Why do you think you're not worth it?"

"You don't know the things i've done, the things I have to do. You can't fix this."  
"I know a lot of the things you've done, and I'm still here. As for what you _have _to do. If you tell me what it is, perhaps I could help you...fix...whatever it is that needs fixing."

"I can't tell you, Granger, if I tell you, you'll try to stop me."

"Maybe that's for the best."

"But if you stop me...if I don't...then…" Hermione could see the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. When had this happened, when had she felt uncomfortable with the idea of Draco Malfoy crying? Perhaps when it was genuine. Perhaps when she looked at him and thought she'd never seen a person more in pain than this boy in front of her. Without thinking about it she reached out and took his hand in her own.

He snatched it back with a horrified look on his face, but she wasn't sure if it was because he was disgusted with her or he'd felt the same jolt pulse through him as she had through her.

Hermione decided to sail past it as though nothing had happened. It had been a stupid move, He was barely talking to her nevermind being in a place where he was comfortable with physical contact. She tried to recover from their touch, convince herself that there had been nothing, but her heart and it's crazy thundering definitely weren't listing to her.

"What would happen, Draco? If you chose not to do this" His eyes looked up from where he stared down at his hands intensely,

"He'd kill me family." He said, smoothly unfeeling, like he'd said those words a thousand times in his head. Like he knew they were the only words he needed to hear to calm down and get on with his task. For Hermione, everything clicked into place. Draco was not following Voldermort blindly, he was not a willing party in all of this. He was doing what everyone was doing. He was trying to protect himself and the ones he loved. It wasn't in the same way, but it was the same motivation, and that was enough for Hermione to know that she was right about him. He was not a bad person. He was just desperate.

"I'm so sorry. I can't imagine."

After that they settled into another silence.

* * *

Draco turned her words over in his head until he realised that it wasn't true. She probably could imagine. After all, her parents were threatened too by this. Especially if Draco's suspicions were right and Granger was planning to fight in this war.

The thought of that made him uneasy for some reason. She was good. She might be a mudblood and an insufferable know it all, but if the pain of this year so far had taught him anything, it's that no deserved to be murdered the way the Dark Lord has in mind. Plus, if he was struggling with the idea of murdering someone, there's no way Hermione Granger could find enough hate and darkness in her heart to cast the killing curse.

The silence stretched between them, turning uncomfortable and awkward. What was she doing here? What could she possibly have to gain from sitting with him? Unless she was keeping an eye on him. Perhaps she thought as soon as his back was turned he'd be running of to attempt to murder some more of her friends.

"Why are you still here, Granger?" And why did he want her to still be here.

"Tell me what happened? With Katie, I mean." Attempting to comfort him was one thing but this…

"I won't explain myself to you, Granger." He snarled, she recoiled slightly and he regretted it. Then he mentally slapped himself. He used to rejoice in seeing her back away from him. It was messing with his head, her still being her, her talking to him, he couldn't understand it. And he hated not understanding things.

"I didn't ask you to explain yourself, I just wanted to know what happened. If I knew what happened, why you were upset, maybe I could help you." He groaned in frustration and stood up, pushing his hair out of his face,

"I don't get it. Why are you here Granger?" His anger bubbled inside him as he paced the tiled floor, but she simply watched him. He could feel it burning his back, "What do you want from me?" He was near yelling now, "I have nothing for you Granger. I can't change what I'm doing, I can't change what I've done. You're pathetic need to help me here and be the good guy is useless, so just fucking tell me. WHY ARE YOU HERE?" He turned and punched the mirror and watched it shatter around his hand. He heard Granger gasp as she leapt to her feet. The blood trickled down his hand, and he felt calmer. Like the blood oozing out of him was the bad blood. Like the mirror had been his life, or everything about his life that he couldn't control. And his fist had been one giant fuck you to it all.

* * *

Without thinking, Hermione grabbed Draco's bloody hand and led him away from the mess he'd made. She didn't know if he was in shock but he didn't protest to physical contact this time. Instead he followed her back to the wall, and sat them both down. She kept hold of his hand the entire time. It was strange. Holding on to him. For some illogical reason she always thought he'd be cold to the touch. But instead he was comfortingly warm.

She surveyed the damage he'd done, it wasn't too bad, apart from a shard of glass sticking out from his knuckles. It didn't look as though it went too deep though. Hermione, pinched her nails together and squeezed around the shard, easing it slowly from the wound as Draco hissed through his teeth. She had just about got it out when he hissed herself, dropping the glass to the floor beneath them. A bead of blood formed on the pin prick cut she'd got from the shard. She made to move her hand to her mouth to simply suck it away but Malfoy's uninjured hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her. He stared at the bead of blood with total confusion, a bank expression. Like it couldn't be possible, like he wasn't seeing what he was expecting to. Like Tarzan seeing another human for the first time.

"Come on, Draco," She laughed, "I thought you were smarter than that."

"But it's the same." He said, his eyes moving from her wound to his own.

"Of course it is. You can't have thought I actually had _dirty _blood. Whatever you believe on how much better than me you are because of your blood status, you can't believe that we're any different on the inside."

"But.." He shook his head, clearly at a loss of anything to say, and Hermione had to admit, she was in a state of disbelief. Did pureblood idiots genuinely believe her blood was literally dirty. If so, it was no wonder a muggleborn like herself was deemed the brightest witch of her age. She certainly had more common sense than some of her pureblood counterparts. She caught his eyes, forcing him to look into her own,

"My blood is the same as yours, Draco. Same as any person's, magical or muggle. Your blood status idiocy is nothing other than an outdated class system. Pureblood, upper class, muggleborn, peasant. It doesn't matter where somebody comes from, Draco. What they're background is. What matters is _who_ they are. Who they _choose _to be. So tell me something, Malfoy. Who are you choosing to be?"

* * *

Everything he'd ever been told is a lie. And Granger thought him stupid for ever believing it in the first place. Maybe he was. But it didn't change anything. He looked in her eyes. Pools of molten chocolate with flecks of the richest gold. And full of patience and encouragement. For him. Something he wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed before. Not from friends, or teachers, not even his mother. Definitely not his father. All he saw in his eyes was disappointment, and lately something that looked a lot like fear. In that respect, at least, they were the same. He'd never felt fear like it, especially now, with Granger still holding his hand, and him still holding her wrist. The only physical contact they'd had before was the blow she'd dealt him in third year and the occasional shoulder barge in his part, but now he couldn't seem to make himself let go, or stop looking at the smattering of freckles across her nose, or her curls pulled into a hasty ponytail, a few of the more unruly ones escaping around her face. His throat was suddenly bone dry, but he had to say something before she tried to decipher what he was thinking, and at the moment he wasn't even sure he could that,

"I don't have a choice, Granger. Who I am has been chosen for me. And if I choose to ignore it, there are consequences. This is my only choice."

"Draco, that's an oxymoron. If it's a choice, it's not the only one. It's not too late. I can help." He squeezed her hand tighter and for a moment he wished what she was saying was true. He wanted it to be true. He wanted her to help.

"I don't deserve your help." His voice was almost a whisper and he looked at the floor, not wanting to see the pity he knew he would find on her face. He didn't need pity. It was only the truth after all. But what she did instead startled him. He felt a warmth as she touched her forehead to his own. Her voice was so hushed, he couldn't tell if she was speaking or they were simply communicating telepathically now.

"You're a good person, Draco. You've just been...misled." She sighed, her breath cooling his hand.

He knew that wasn't true. Before this year, he would never have doubted that he was right. That his way of life was the right way. That his beliefs were the right beliefs. But if the past few months had taught him anything, it was either that he'd been wrong this entire time, or that he was weak. He didn't know which he'd prefer.

But right here, joined by the person he least expected to want to comfort him, he felt like he could ignore it all. He knew she was wrong. He had no choice, he had to go through with this. His family had already fallen from the Dark Lord's grace. If he chose not to there was no going back. They'd be pariahs and Draco knew that, even without his own life mattering, his mother and father would not be able to cope. His mother was already struggling with the lack of status. He could still fail, and that would be one thing, at least he would have tried. But not trying at all. They'd be dead. The only people he'd ever really cared about, the only people who had ever really cared about him. They'd be gone.

But in this locked room right now, it didn't matter. He could pretend, for a short time, that he was someone different, that he was someone deserving of help. That he was the person Granger seemed to think he was. No matter how wrong she was.

He wondered whether in a different world they might have been friends. They were both smart, far smarter than the rest of their classmates. She was straight and to the point. A quality Draco liked in girls. He couldn't be doing with games or fawning girls with fluttering eyelashes, sticking their chests out.

Realising himself, he pulled his head away from here. He shouldn't be thinking of Granger that way. Why was he thinking of her that way.

* * *

Hermione felt a change in the air as soon as Draco pulled away from her. He'd let go of her wrist but his other hand was still rested in hers. The tension was thick around them and he was looking at her with curiosity again. If only she was more skilled in legilimency then she could tell what he was thinking.

Though she didn't have to wait long to find out. Before she knew what was happening his lips were on hers. Before she could think too much about it, her lips moved against his. Her fingers tangled themselves into his hair, as his gripped her waist hard. He lifted them slightly and she took his lead, moving to straddle his thighs.

She had kissed only ever kissed one person before, and whilst Viktor had always been patient with her, it had been an awkward and uncomfortable experience.

This though. This felt like electricity running through her brains. She didn't know whether it was the danger, the forbiddenness of it all, or whether it was the kiss itself, but either way, she'd never been so excited. Draco roamed his hands over her body, up her thighs, hitching her skirt higher and higher, until they made their way up her torso again, running over her back and down her sides, his thumbs grazing her breasts as they passed. He pulled his mouth away from hers, his eyes still shut, moving instead to her neck. Her fingers remained tangled in his impossibly blonde hair and her breath hitched his he nipped a particularly sensitive spot with his teeth. She moved a hand and gripped his shoulder as she felt him growing harder beneath her. She felt the urge to move her hips, and despite having no idea what she was doing, she followed her gut, feeling the pulsing in her stomach growing.

"Draco," she moaned.

Her voice and his name, a mixture of the two, broke the spell. He shoved her off him and watched as she landed on her arse with a thud when he stood.

"Fuck, Granger." He scowled, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"ME?!" She glowered from the floor. He could see the unshed tears building in her eyes, "You kissed me, Draco. Not the other way around."

"Yeah, well. It won't happen again." And he meant it. In that moment he didn't want to see her again, "You messed with my head with all your bullshit. It doesn't matter what you think _I_ am. _You're_ still just a filthy mudblood." He turned, pointing his wand at the door and casting a near silent alohomora.

It was all he could do not to run back to the dungeons crying. He had to keep his cool. He had to keep her pretty words and pretty face out of his head. It didn't matter that he'd never felt anything like he'd felt in those seconds they'd kissed. It didn't matter that his name in her mouth was like a fleece blanket around him. He had a task to complete and he knew if he'd stayed there just a minute longer, he would've given it up. He would have started to believe her. And there was too much at stake for that.

* * *

_**A few months later**_

As Draco pointed his wand at Albus Dumbelodre, and listened to him tell him he could protect him, that he was good, Hermione's words sounded in his head.

He'd fought so long to keep her from his mind. Despite the fact that her lips and her touch, her kindness, had invaded his dreams every night since, he had managed to distract himself from her with this very plan. But now it came to it, now Dumbledore was echoing the things she said to him that evening, he couldn't keep it out anymore.

"_You're a good person, Draco."_

And it was that. That sentiment, that crack of hope that she was right, moved his arm down. He knew he would pay for this, but he somehow didn't think the price would be as high as murder would be on his soul. A soul that, until that night on the floor of a bathroom, he doubted he even had.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed.**

**I did have the idea to turn this into a two-shot with them meeting again years later. Let me know what you think of that idea. **


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